Snippets...

…of conversations had around my house.

Are you eating? Did your mother make dinner?

No. I was just hungry.

Mom didn’t make dinner yet? What are you eating?

A burrito.

A Burrito? Stephen’s eating a burrito.

Stephen? You’re eating a burrito? I’m making dinner…

It’s 8:00. I just thought…

Are we all having burritos for dinner? I thought you were making chicken.

I’m making you lunch.

You don’t have to make lunch. I can do it.

I’m making everyone lunch. Do you want me to exclude you?

Do you want to go to the Rodeo parade today? First time in a hundred years they’ve had it.

Yeah. I’ve missed that.

You want to go?

I don’t think I can…

I’m going to be dressed as a clown. I told them you might come.

What? I don’t have a clown suit.

Really? Your brother and sisters go to Safeway dressed as clowns all the time.

I really don’t think that’s true, Dad.

Do you want to go with me to my prayer meeting tomorrow? I’d like you to come.

Dad prays a lot. Not very loud, so that you would know it. But loud enough that the relevant people get the message. I think I’m a bit jealous of that. I feel the need to say everything out loud (like what I’m writing right now). I think he really doesn’t care what other people think of him. Mom loves him. God loves him. The rest of us are learning.

Somewhere in downtown Salinas (I’m not sure exactly where because I get lost all the time) there is a room where 10-15 middle aged men and women meet early in the morning to pray for the city. I don’t know how long they have been doing it, but I know that I was there this last Thursday to watch it.

I mean join them.

I mean, I don’t know…

Prayer is a difficult thing for me. It has been a while. Not since I’ve prayed, but since I’ve … wanted to. Me and God, we have trust issues. Same as me and Dad. I don’t really know how they started, but they’re here, and it’s only been a while since I was able to admit it.

This is not the time for that.

A full room. There is a man with a left handed 12 string guitar. It’s a Taylor. He doesn’t play very well.

Stephen Elliott, come on down! You’re the next contestant on “Which of these old people knew you when you were 5, and do you remember them?”

It’s the game show where everyone loses. It’s a little creepy when you enter a room full of strangers who already know a lot about you somehow. I used to want to be famous. I think it might feel something like this.

But these are not adoring fans. They’re religious folk. Praying people. Dad’s friends. I have no idea what they are going to talk about.

Stephen, could we pray for you? Before you go to Korea, I mean?

I was sure that things would never be the same again. That I had grown beyond certain types of faith to the point that nothing would seem like magic anymore. I figure everyone gets that way eventually. We become old.

I think that I was the oldest person there that morning. The one who thought he had seen everything. None would be in agreement. There was no point in agreeing anymore.

I don’t really know why I decided to go to Korea.

That’s a lie. I know, I just don’t want to tell anyone.

That’s not the reason why I’m going now.

That’s the final snippet. The last piece of the conversation before going home. Nothing is as it used to be.

I haven’t seen everything. Tomorrow is meant for someone else.